


Getting Sherlock Home

by walnutpipes



Series: Held Back [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, johnlock - Fandom, sherlockbbc
Genre: Anger, Declarations Of Love, Drug Abuse, Drugs, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Love, M/M, Mental Anguish, Tears
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 22:13:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1565903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walnutpipes/pseuds/walnutpipes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John found Sherlock, but it is too late? Has John lost his chance to tell Sherlock how he feels. Will John loose Sherlock and himself forever.</p><p>Just a little teaser below....</p><p> ~He was not going to loose Sherlock again. He was going to hold Sherlock back from death. There was no way death was going to pull Sherlock down, not with John holding him. The image of John’s Browning flashed in his mind. If Sherlock went with death John was going with him. They were not being separated again.~</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting Sherlock Home

Getting Sherlock Home

John reached out grasping Sherlock’s wrist. His pulse was there, it was fluttery and weak. Probably dehydration he thought. John had no idea how long Sherlock had been laying there, probably days. It must have been a bad drug, or just too much.

“Why did you do this? Oh Sherlock”, he muttered, and pulled him into his arms.

John had to figure out how to get Sherlock back to the flat, but who could he ask? Mycroft, no, not like this. His brother would take full advantage of the situation and do something to Sherlock, to hold over his head, blackmail.

Who could he get?

Molly? No, she couldn’t lift him, but she could do some blood work to see just how bad it was.

Lestrade? But he was with the Yard. Would he come as a DI and overlook his surroundings. Would he come as a friend?

John gambled that he would come as a friend, there could be no other way.

He fumbled with his mobil. He found Lestrad’s number on his contact list. It rang for what seemed forever, right before John’s frustration got to its boiling point and he flung his mobil across the room, Lestrade answered.

“Greg, please.” he begged. “Please I need your help.” John’s voice breaking. “I need you to help me with Sherlock. He’s… he’s overdosed or something…. “

“Where are you”?

“At the docks. There is an abandoned warehouse, grey, two stories tall. Greg, its a drug house, there are lots of people here, and I’m sure dealers, and others. You can’t come as DI. Please. Your the only personI can think of that’s trust worthy… a friend.”

After a brief pause, “I’m on my way” and the line went dead.

John then text Lestrade the directions to their location and where they were in the building hoping that Lestrade could figure it out and get there soon.

John cradled Sherlock’s head in his lap waiting for Greg to arrive. Rocking Sherlock back and forth as he softly caressed his friend’s face, his cheekbones, his forehead. He ran his thumb across Sherlock’s lips, soft as they were, but cracked, probably due from dehydration.

“I have help coming. It’ll be here soon. Just hold on Sherlock, hold on”.

John was caressing Sherlock’s hair, when a tear dropped on Sherlock’s face. With the splatter of John’s tear, Sherlock’s eyes fluttered open. His eyes were unfocused and dilated, You could still see their mysterious green blue color. John could look into Sherlock’s eyes forever, feel lost, yet safe, something stirred in John chest.

“John.” Sherlock whispered, raspy and barely audible to a point that only John could hear him. “John… I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.” A tear formed in the corner of Sherlock’s eye and slowly rolled down his temple and into his hair. 

Sherlock slowly raised a shaky hand, and touched John’s face, brushing a tear away, and brought his wet fingers to his lips and held it there, then lowering his hand onto John’s where it rested, then his eyes fluttered shut.

John watched Sherlock’s eyes close with another tear of his own forming. He didn’t move his hand except to turn and grasp Sherlock’s, and twine their fingers together. He wasn’t letting go. He was not going to loose Sherlock again. He was going to hold Sherlock back from death. There was no way death was going to pull Sherlock down, not with John holding him tight. The image of John’s Browning flashed in his mind. If Sherlock went with death John was going with him. He was not going to be separated from Sherlock again.

Thats how Greg found them. Sherlock’s head in John lap with John caressing his hair, and their hands clasped tightly together.

John looked up at Greg. His face smeared with the tears and dirt that had rolled down his cheeks. You could see where they had fallen and gathered on his shirt… and on Sherlock’s too.

“Help me Greg, help me. Help us.” and another tear rolled down his face. “I can’t loose him again. Please, not again”.

Greg saw the desperation in John’s face. 

“Its ok John. We’ll get him out of here.” he said looking around. “My car is right outside. Molly’s here too. She brought a fully stocked med kit. She’s also has a blood kit. She’ll take samples and get back to the lab. She’ll do a full work up to see what’s in him. By the time we get you and Sherlock to the flat she should have the full results.”

John shook his head dumbly in acknowledgment. He stood up and gently placed his arm across Sherlock’s back and draping Sherlock’s arm around and behind his neck, down across his chest where he held it close. Greg did the same and they hoisted Sherlock up between them.

“Oi!” they heard shouted across the room. “Where you taking him?”

It was the man John had talked to. The one who wanted to throw Sherlock in the river when he thought he was just a worthless body. Now seeing that Sherlock was indeed alive. He had other plans.

“He’s gotta pay. These fine beds aren’t for free ya know.”

John’s eyes grew cold as death. You could say John was death himself. He looked directly at the man, straight in and down into his black soul. He shifted Sherlock to Greg who took on the extra weight. John straightened and stood hard. He was now in soldier mode. He slowly reached around to his back, and pulled the Browning out of his waistband and clicked the safety off. You could hear the sound clearly, and it pierced the man’s brain with fear, like ice. Fear was flooding into his eyes. John just held the Browning at his side. Death now shining in his eyes. He was ready to strike.

“Easy mate. It just business fair and square.”, said the man, as he was backing away. His empty hands rising into the air. John was raising the gun directly to the mans face while stepping forward. The man was now shaking. There was spittle forming and gathering at the corners of his mouth. He eyes widening even larger. He started backwards, faster now, tripping and tumbling over bodies as the turned and ran.

John slowly placing his gun back into his waistband, this time, in the front where all could see. His eyes still cold as death. He turned and looked at Greg. “There’ll be no more trouble. If there is, they’re dead.” 

“Christ” he heard from under Greg’s breath. Greg had never seen this side of John. It was a side he’d never want be up against. It indeed was death. He also knew John would have no qualms on pulling the trigger on anyone no matter who they were, or tried to stop them. More to the point, between John and Sherlock.

For just a second he heard Sherlock’s words describing how the taxi driver was shot by a mysterious gunman from the case A Study in Pink.

“Your looking for a crack shot, but not just a marksman. His hands musn’t have shaken at all, so clearly he’s acclimatized to violence. He didn’t fire until I was in immediate danger, so obviously moral principal. You’re looking for someone probably with a history of military service and nerves of steel” Greg now knew Sherlock had been identifying John.

They got Sherlock out to the car with no further incident. Molly unlocked the doors and rushed to help John and Greg get Sherlock in the back seat. Once in, she climbed in and slammed the door shut. John raced to the other side, got in, where he and Molly sandwiched Sherlock between them. Greg was already in the drivers seat, jamming the car into drive, and speeding off.

Molly got Sherlock’s arm bare and jabbed the needle in drawing vile after vile of blood. That’s when Molly looked up at John, and John looked down at Sherlock’s arm. The needle tracks were visible as was the bruising. How many were there? Molly quickly pulled up the other sleeve, there were more.

“How much did he do?” she mumbled to herself.

When Sherlock felt the needle stab he lurched and began to thrash. John pulled his friend to his chest and held tight. “Sherlock its ok! We got you. Its ok. Its ok.” and began to stroke his hair.

He pulled his friends head closer and began to mumble in his ear over and over, “Its ok. Its ok. Its over. Your going home. We’re taking you home.”. John couldn’t hold back the words any longer, he was not going to hide them, “I love you Sherlock. I love you.” All the while tears rolling down his face.

“John” Sherlock groaned. His name came out as a long groan. It originated deep in Sherlock’s chest. It jolted John down to his core and touched his soul making his heart jumped a beat. It may have been meant for John’s ears only but it was just loud enough for all to heart. Sherlock’s eyes fluttered open, and he reached up to John face. Molly glanced up and Greg looked back in the rear view mirror. John saw all this but was past caring. He didn’t care anymore what people thought of his feeling toward Sherlock, he didn’t care one bit.

Sherlock slowly, tenderly took John’s hand and brought it to his cheek. John felt the wetness on his hand and pulled it back. Was it blood? No. It was Sherlock’s own tears.

Sherlock pulled John hand back to him and placed it on his chest. He pressed it against his heart, enough that John felt Sherlock’s heart beat. It was then that John realized that their hearts were now beating together as one. With that, John buried his face in Sherlock’s curls, and they both closed their eyes.

Greg whispered a prayer under his breath, reached under the dash where he flipped a switch and the sirens came on. His career and and his position as a DI be damned.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the beginning of the revelation of John and Sherlock's relationship. A beginning for them both to discover how deep each other feels toward one another.


End file.
